


Love Will Find Out the Way

by within_a_dream



Category: A Charm of Magpies Series - K. J. Charles
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/pseuds/within_a_dream
Summary: The bond Stephen and Lucien share comes in useful during their trip abroad
Relationships: Stephen Day/Lucien Vaudrey
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Love Will Find Out the Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisissirius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/gifts).



It was a beautiful morning in Paris, one of the first warm days of spring, and Crane was miserable. Stephen had kept to their promised departure date, but only barely – they’d been practically minutes away from missing their ship entirely. They’d both been too tired from the journey (and the rush to make said journey) to do anything but fall into bed when they reached the hotel, and Crane had awoken to an empty bed and a horrific headache. It felt like the sort of pain that arose from the sympathetic connection he shared with his lover, although why Stephen’s head would be throbbing this badly, Crane couldn’t say. They hadn’t drunk nearly enough yesterday for a hangover even taking into account Stephen’s size and lower tolerance, and Stephen hadn’t overextended himself magically speaking in some time.

Perhaps Crane was simply getting old. He rubbed at his temples in vain and followed the smell of coffee into the sitting room his bedroom shared with Merrick’s.

"Day’s still asleep?" Merrick asked from his station at the stove.

"I assumed he was with you."

"He went out." Jenny was sprawled in an armchair, looking out the window like she was itching to run across the rooftops (as she probably was). Crane considered it one of his greatest victories that Jenny had relaxed enough around him to talk to him like Merrick did. His bankrolling of a small wardrobe of travelling trousers and jackets, made of plain but sturdy fabric, had done a great deal to contribute to that.

"When was that, exactly?" Crane had no reason to feel nervous. Stephen was eminently capable of taking care of himself, even in a foreign city. They were in the tourist’s quarter of Paris, for God’s sake, not a den of cutthroats. But there was a worry settling deep in his gut, and he’d learned to listen to these sorts of worries.

"This one of your...thingies?" Merrick waved his hand to indicate the bond that none of them had found the words in any language to describe. "Shaman shit?"

"Shaman shit indeed." Crane set his jaw. "I think we ought to go after Mr. Day."

  
  


Stephen came to in a dark room that smelt like damp stone. His hands were bound behind his back – a sound knot, but nothing that would stop a practitioner. Either the men who’d taken him had further precautions he couldn’t sense, or they had no idea who they’d got their hands on. Embarrassing, that.

He flexed his hands, feeling the aether swirl around him as the ropes fell away from his wrists. He shook his hands, trying to bring the blood flow back, and after a moment of quiet to make sure he was alone, conjured up a dim light.

There was a wall of skulls leering at him from across the room. Feeling the wall behind him, it became clear that he was surrounded by bones, all laid out in tidy rows. There was a hallway to his right, but Stephen had the feeling it would be terribly easy to lose himself in the tunnels here. The bones were old, but they still held reserves of power, and he could feel them stretching out for miles.

Someone would return for him soon, and Stephen would force that someone to take him to the surface. He’d faced far worse. So why was panic welling up in his chest?

It wasn’t his panic. This was Lucien, and he was nearby. Stephen reached out, holding an image of the cavern in his mind. He could feel Lucien drawing closer, a sense of reassurance replacing the panic. Stephen was just leaning back to wait for Lucien’s arrival when he heard voices he didn’t recognize echoing through the cavern.

  
  


"He’s this way." Crane took off running, not stopping to make sure Merrick and Jenny were following.

"D’you know where we’re going?" Merrick called.

"I know where we’ll end up." He couldn’t stop to focus on where he was running or he’d lose the thread that connected him to Stephen. In fact, Crane had the uneasy feeling that if he thought at all about what was happening, the link would shatter. Stephen was underground, somewhere to the west. He was suspiciously calm, but Crane couldn’t shake the image of Stephen bleeding, unconscious, bound in iron, stripped to the bone by a warlock…

He came to a dead halt. "He’s here."

Merrick eyed him cautiously. "There’s no one here but us."

Crane shook his head. He must look absolutely insane, he knew that, but Stephen’s calm had just spiked through with fear, and Crane couldn’t bear the wait it would take to explain. "Underground. The sewers, I think. There must be an entrance somewhere."

"Here!" Jenny was ducking under a low-hanging archway. " _Something’s_ down here, at least."

Crane followed her, bending nearly double to fit through the tunnel. It lowered into a well-worn staircase, leading deep under the street. As they descended, clattering noises began to echo off the walls, violent noises that only increased Crane’s urgency. He began to take the steps two by two, until he was coming out of the stairwell with fists raised, wishing he’d thought to bring a knife.

He followed the noises down a corridor to a small chamber, where Stephen was leaned nonchalantly against the wall. There were two men sprawled unconscious on the ground in front of him, another with his wrists and ankles bound slumped against the wall, glaring up at Stephen.

"Ah, Lord Crane, you’ve arrived. Mr. Faucher here was just describing his affiliates’ plan to me."

It was imprudent not to follow Stephen’s lead, Crane knew. He certainly seemed to have things well in hand. But Crane’s residual terror had changed to anger, and restraint had never been his strong suit. He strode forward, grabbed the man by the collar, and punched him in the face.

"I did have a plan for him," Stephen said as the man crumpled to the ground, raising an eyebrow.

"He was responsible for ruining my morning," Crane replied. " _I_ had plans for _us_." He wrapped Stephen in his arms, losing his composure. "I was very worried." A drastic understatement, but he couldn’t find the words to describe the panic he’d felt when he’d realized that Stephen was gone. But he he didn’t have to, he realized, Stephen must have felt it.

"They weren’t practitioners," Stephen murmured. "Just kidnappers looking for an easy ransom who chose a very poor target."

Merrick cleared his throat. "Might want to get out of here before they wake up."

"We have a while yet." Stephen leaned his head against Cran’es chest. "Do we still have time for your plans, my lord?"

"It’s early," Crane said, ignoring Merrick’s put-upon sigh and the exaggerated retching noises Jenny was making. "I think we can manage."


End file.
